


i stand on the shoulders of giants

by unicyclehippo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, High School AU, Powered AU, anyway high school au, as you all may know i tend to blow my prompts out to unnecessary lengths, cat grant is curious, kara doesn't talk much, my little alien daughter gets nervous, non canon obviously, was a prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:51:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo
Summary: Kara Danvers has been on Earth for two years when she meets Cat Grant.





	1. Chapter 1

High school is kind of the worst, and that’s a dangerous thought coming from a girl who could _literally_  shake it down around her ears if she wanted to. Not that she does—only… sometimes. Sometimes it feels like a really good idea, like when she has to pretend to fall when someone trips her, or to move slowly to pick up the books someone knocks out of her hands. 

No, that’s not true. She never really wants to. There are far, far more lovely people here than there are cruel, and she just has to remember that when they’re hissing taunts into her ears that she can’t forget, when they whisper behind her back and her ears pick up the comments though she doesn’t want to. 

Kara sighs heavily and reaches out for her last book. Before she can, someone else scoops it up and Kara’s shoulders slump. Super. They’re going to play keep-away with it now or something. She wonders if she should bother standing up or if she should just,

“Are you okay?”

The voice is soft, a little confused, and Kara blinks up at a girl who she thinks might be the girl angels are imagined from. She has the eyes, the hair, the perfect mouth. 

Kara nods and hops up to her feet, holds her hand out for her book. The girl tilts her head and waits. When Kara just keeps her hand out, she gets a little laugh and then her book is handed to her and the girl walks away. 

Kara doesn’t think she’ll see her again. Their highschool isn’t huge, but their classes have been settled for a month now and Kara thinks if she shared any classes with her she would have seen her before.

She knows she would have. 

That’s not a girl that anyone can ignore. She knows, because boys and girls turn their heads to watch her walk by—no, saunter. No— _stride_ , because that’s a girl who knows there is nothing in her way but if there were, she wouldn’t let it stop her. That’s a girl who plays, Kara thinks carefully about the right phrase, chicken with challenges. That’s a girl who has never flinched. 

Kara’s heart doesn’t stop pounding until well into the afternoon. 

* * *

“This is so lowbrow,” the girl says to her when she finds Kara trying to dry out her backpack in the girls bathroom. “Honestly, who bullies people?” Kara shrugs and turns away. She keeps an eye on her in the mirror and the girl notices. Kara knows she does because her red lips curve into a smile and she doesn’t let Kara’s silence get to her. She comes closer instead and leans against the sink right next to her, stares at her profile for a while before she speaks again. “Why do they do this to you?”

Kara frowns down at her bag, then _glares_  at the girl, who shakes her head. 

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, obviously you don’t deserve it, no one does.” She shrugs. “I didn’t mean anything, I guess.”

Kara snorts. This girls doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean—Kara is sure of that too. She tries to tell the girl she knows this about her with a small sideways glance, and for the first time with someone other than Alex, she thinks the girl understands, because her lips press flat tight and then she’s smiling, then _grinning_. And then, oh _R_ _ao_. Then she’s  _laughing_. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry, you’re right, I need to know things. It’s a _terrible habit, darling, very invasive_.” She twists her hand expertly, like she’s swatting away a fly. Coupled with a roll of her eyes and a slightly affected drawl, Kara knows she’s mimicking someone. And someone she doesn’t like all that much. 

She licks her lips. 

The girl catches the movement, eyes darting down to her lips lightning fast. She twists so she’s facing Kara front on and lifts her eyebrows with an encouraging nod. 

No, she can’t do it. Kara shrugs and presses the button for the dryer again. The rush of hot air is loud, the dryers are old. She still catches the girls sigh. 

“Did a lot of your stuff get wet?” She’s still trying. Kara doesn’t understand why. “What’s thi—” She reaches for the notebook Kara has opened to dry on the bench and, very quickly, Kara catches her hand. 

She lets her go just as fast, ducks her head. 

“I'm sorry,” she hears her say quietly. “I shouldn’t pry. Like I said, bad habit.”

Kara shrugs. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It takes a second to register, but the uplilt in the last word means a question, Kara remembers. She lifts her eyes and the girl is still standing there, waiting, so Kara nods. It earns her another smile, and for the second time in two weeks, Kara goes home, lays on her bed, and she draws someone of earth. 

* * *

They don’t see each other the next day. Or, Kara doesn’t see her so she’s pretty sure that the girl doesn’t see her either. 

Her name is Cat. Cat Grant. Everyone seems to be talking about her. Her mother is apparently a highly sought after editor, who rubs shoulders with the wealthy. Kara thinks that’s a strange activity, but she’s pretty sure she just doesn’t really understand.

“Eliza?” she asks at dinner that evening, and she focuses on her plate to make sure that she doesn’t overestimate the distance and break yet another plate. She wants desperately to advance to using the good plates, not the cheap plastic ones Eliza got in bulk at a warehouse out of town. 

“Yes, Kara? Elbow off the table.”

“Sorry.” Kara smiles over at her, slips her elbow off the table. Alex puts her elbow on the table all the time, when it’s just them. But around Eliza, it’s not okay. With Jeremiah it was okay, but not when it was him and Eliza. There are a lot of rules, and exceptions, but this one she mostly gets right. Mostly. “What does… rubbing shoulders mean?” When Eliza tilts her head thoughtfully, Kara flushes. She must have got it wrong. 

“What was the context? It could be sexual. What do you think, Alex?”

“I think please don’t ask me if things are sexual?” Alex shrugs. “I dunno.” Kara ducks her eyes back to her plate when Alex turns suddenly gleeful eyes on her. She waits until Eliza is eating again and then, under her breath, she whispers, “This is about this new girl, right?”

Kara glances to Eliza but she isn’t looking at them, she’s reading from some journal, so she nods. 

“I’ll talk to you after dinner, if you want.”

Kara nods again. 

They sneak away, unsuccessfully but Eliza lets them go because really they’re more trouble in the kitchen than she needs. Alex grabs Kara by the wrist and tugs her into their bedroom, jumps onto her bed. 

“So, this rubbing shoulders thing. What was that about?”

“Her mother,” Kara tells her quietly. “She…rubs shoulders with the rich?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s an expression. It means, did you want to get your notebook?” Alex suggests, and Kara ducks to pull it out from under her bed. “Cool. It’s like, hobnobbing. Do you remember that one?”

“Yes. So, she is of a lower social class but is accepted into the wealthy because of the nature of her job?”

Alex grins. “Yeah, basically. She’s an editor, right?” Kara nods. “Yeah. Rich folks love to think they know more than other people, think they’re more interesting and all that.” She shakes her head, snorts. “Can you imagine if they knew? My sister's an alien. That’s a pretty good name for a TV show, actually.”

Kara laughs at that. It’s funny, because if anyone _really_  knew, they would all be in a lot of danger. So for Alex to suggest it is the joke. Alex is smiling at her in that soft kind of way she does when she knows Kara doesn’t _fully_  understand something. She does that a lot. 

She doesn’t recognise the way Alex’s face shifts again. She’s still smiling but it’s _different_  somehow. 

“You talk to her? Cat?” Alex comes over to sit next to her when Kara slowly shakes her head. She swings her feet for a minute before she holds out her hand. Kara gulps and then lays her hand over the top of it. When Alex nods, she curls her fingers gently. “Good.”

“Doesn’t hurt?”

“Not a bit. You can hold a bit tighter.” Kara does, and Alex nods. “Really good, Kara. You’re doing way better.”

“Thanks.”

“But like, you’re not talking to her?” Kara keeps her hand gentle. “Are you talking to _anyone_?”

Kara hunches her shoulders. Shakes her head no. 

“You know you’ve got to. You know that, right?”

“They already think I’m weird. I talk weird and I don’t know the things other people know.”

“Hey, you’ll get there. But you’ve got to try.” She nudges Kara’s shoulder with hers. “Maybe you could try with Cat? She seems nice.”

“She…” Kara frowns down at her feet. Something stops her from telling Alex about her unflappable curiosity, The way Cat watches her like she knows she’s something different. “She is,” she tells Alex instead, because she’d picked up a book for Kara and she speaks to her kindly when no one else does. “What do I say?”

“How about you start with hello?”

* * *

There are patterns to everything, if one cares to look. Some of them are wild and beautiful—the new life that crops up in spring, the birds flying overhead, the waves that shiver their way higher up the beach in their tides. Some of them are so very human—the traffic lights, the clatter of businesses opening a minute before eight weekday mornings, the way Alex taps her spoon in the same rhythm, always the same rhythm, against her bowl. 

After Johnny Branson goes to his father's every second weekend, he gets meaner. He tries his best to trip her and she has to fall every time because she hasn’t quite learned yet how to fake a stumble and she really doesn’t want to break his foot. One of his favourite things to do is throw her bag into the garbage. It only takes a second, but the smell of trash follows her around for the rest of the day and, if she’s particularly unlucky, the rest of the week if it lands in something really gross. 

“Morning, Danvers.”

Kara tightens her hold on her backpack and lowers her eyes to the ground. 

“Aren’t you gonna say good morning? That’s really rude.” He grabs at her bag and she rocks back on her feet. He stumbles—which she knows he doesn’t like and she resigns herself to him yanking at her bag more forcefully. 

“What the fuck is going on here? Shove off, Branson.”

Cat is all of five foot but she shoves in between Kara and Johnny, stares up at him with sharp eyes and a sharp chin raised in challenge. 

“Ah leave off, Cat. She’s just some little—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence! Don’t you _dare_.” His mouth clicks closed and he looks from Kara to Cat and back again before he shrugs, spreads his hands. 

“Whatever. See you round, Danvers.”

Kara waves goodbye because that’s what you do when someone says goodbye—except when they’re being rude, she remembers, because Alex has _told_ her that and she glares at her hand and shoves it into her pocket. Then someone—Cat—snorts and Kara darts a quick look her way.

“Did you…wave goodbye?”

Kara grins sheepishly at her shoes, nods. 

“Were you being rude or polite? Because if it were me, I’d say rude and I would _love_  it, but,” Cat narrows her eyes at Kara. “You’re sweet and cute so I’m guessing you’re just that polite.” Cat’s smile grows when Kara flushes right to the tips of her ears. “I knew it. That’s adorable.” She reaches out and hooks her arm around Kara’s, tugs her down the hall. Kara doesn’t shift at all and Cat blinks at her, surprised. When Kara lets her body melt to follow the girl, Cat looks even more intrigued but she doesn’t comment on it. “Where are you headed, Danvers?”

Kara holds out her first notebook, with _m_ _ath_  written in the top right corner. 

“And where is that?”

Kara flips to the first page, with the time and the room number written on it, and Cat’s smile sticks but her eyes, they _dance_. 

“You really are prepared for everything, aren’t you?” she asks her softly. The other students part around them. Kara doesn’t really notice—Cat Grant’s hand is on her arm and she’s looking at her like she’s… well, Kara doesn’t quite know. Interesting, maybe. “So you don’t have to speak?”

Kara nods. 

“Why is that?”

Kara licks her lips. Cat definitely notices and they stop at the door of Kara’s classroom. Cat leans in, eagerly waiting her answer. The words stick in Kara’s throat—she hasn’t spoken at school in weeks, at least, and it feels strange—and before she can say anything, the bell starts to ring. She jumps, head darting down in vain to avoid the sound. She thinks she’ll never get used to it. 

“Danvers! Take your seat,” her teacher calls, and Kara nods. Looks apologetically to Cat. 

“Saved by the bell, Danvers,” she tells her, and Kara goes to hide her smile. But, then she lifts her chin—Cat had done it for her, to a bully twice her size—and she lets the way Cat makes her feel, a little scared, a little confused, but mostly heart-thumpingly happy, show on her face. 

Cat’s eyes widen and there is nothing Kara can do to avoid hearing the way her heart trips into a faster pace. 

“See you tomorrow, Danvers,” Cat says. Kara can still hear her heart thumping a little too fast so she’s impressed with how steady her voice is. 

“ _D_ _anvers_. Take a _seat_ ,” her teacher insists, and Kara nods to him. When she turns back to Cat, the hall is empty. 

* * *

Kara finds her in the park. She hesitates before making her way over, because it’s a Sunday and they aren’t at school and maybe it’s not appropriate to talk to her. But when she runs through the big rules Alex and Eliza have taught her, this doesn’t break any of them. 

So, she looks both ways and then crosses the street at a slow jog. She waves to the bakery owners, who try to tempt her with the smell of fresh bread and she, achingly, has to shake her head no. 

There is, for the first time ever, something more important than fresh warm bread. 

Kara stands next to her quietly and waits for Cat to look up. 

“Oh holy _J_ _esus_ ,” Cat gasps, when she finally does. “God, you walk like a ghost.” Kara smiles down at her and then crouches down next to her. “Yeah,” Cat nods when Kara gestures to her leg. “I rolled my ankle jogging. The stupid path is made of little pebbles. Who _does_  that?”

Kara shrugs. She isn’t familiar with the city civil engineers. She could find out, but she thinks it might just be another expression. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Cat continues. Kara jerks her thumb over her shoulder to the bakery and Cat nods. “Of course. Any good?” The enthusiastic nod she gets in response makes her laugh. She shifts a little and winces. Kara points down to her leg again and Cat shrugs. “I don’t know what you want. To touch it? Danvers, you gotta buy a girl dinner before you go touching her leg. You know that, right?” When Kara stares at her, Cat sighs. “Sure, go for it. I called my mom but she didn’t pick up so it’s not like I’m going anywhere for a while.”

Kara hums quietly, a sympathetic noise, and she moves down to kneel next to Cat’s ankle. 

“You can speak, can’t you?” Cat muses. She winces a little when Kara very, very gently presses against her ankle. She _knows_  she was being gentle, which means that Cat is actually hurt. Kara lets her glasses slide down her nose a short way and scans her ankle as fast as she can. Nothing looks fractured—and she’s poured over a lot of medical journals, so she’s, like…ninety seven per cent sure it’s not fractured. “Sometimes I see you murmuring stuff. Between classes. When you’re sitting under the tree?”

Kara looks up at her, wide eyed. 

“Not that I’ve been _staring_  at you,” Cat clarifies quickly, and her heart picks up again. Kara thinks maybe she’s lying and she can’t help but grin. “Hey, no, I’m serious, I’ve just been a bit curious because people are weirdly awful to you and you’re so nice and you don’t talk to anyone and I,” she blows her breath out, annoyed but not really annoyed by the silent laugh that shakes Kara’s shoulders. “I like stories. And I get the feeling that your story is something exceptional.”

Kara eases Cat’s foot back down onto the ground. She stands, holds out her hands, and helps Cat to her feet. Then, she sweeps her up into her arms and carries her—though she squawks her surprise first—back to Eliza’s car. 

“Kara, did you get the paper? I’m—Oh. Good morning.”

“Morning, Mrs Danvers.” Kara lowers Cat so she can talk to Eliza through the car window. “I rolled my ankle. Kara, um,” Cat flushes a little and seems frankly amazed that Kara is holding her so easily. Even if Cat is small, Kara isn’t exactly big.  “Carried me.”

“I can see that,” Eliza says in that tone that lets Kara know she’s made a mistake. Not a big one, but a mistake. “Why don’t you help Cat into the car, Kara? We can drive you home once we get the groceries. Do you need anything, dear?” she asks, and talks to distract Cat from the ease with which Kara sets Cat down and picks her up again, literally placing her in the car and buckling her up. She tests the seatbelt and Cat laughs. 

“I can do that, Kara. Thanks.”

Kara darts a look to Eliza and flushes _red_ , nodding. 

“Why don’t you go get the groceries, Kara? I’ll talk with Cat.”

Kara knows it’s code for a very mild interrogation, to see how much they’ll need to cover for whatever kKara’s messed up this time. She hopes Eliza doesn’t stop her from seeing cat. She makes her feel… happy. And so many other things besides. 

* * *

“So, your mom is a bit intense,” Cat says when Kara carries her up to her bedroom with strict instructions from Eliza to get ice from the freezer and a water bottle and make a sandwich for Cat so she won’t have to move around much on her sore ankle. Kara takes each instruction with a nod, and lifts Cat with such ease. She barely even notices when Cat gasps and clings to her shoulders. Eliza does, though, and she shakes her head, grins down at her phone. 

She’s not deaf, or blind. She knows her daughters have been talking a lot about this new girl. Especially her youngest daughter. 

Kara nudges the front door open, and then closed. 

“I can get up the stairs myself, I think,” Cat mutters, but she doesn’t sound too sure so Kara shrugs and carries her up the steps. Cat lets out a little “Huh” and then just points to her bedroom. Kara eases her down onto her large bed and steps away. 

Cat looks a little dazed and she takes a moment to adjust herself, wincing when she jostles her foot. 

“You know, I really don’t need any of that stuff,” Cat tells her when she’s settled. "The ice or the sandwich. Any of that. I’m fine.”

Kara shrugs. It’s her house, but Eliza is the boss. And she’s also a doctor and Cat is a teenager, so Eliza knows best. She tries to convey that with a firm shake of her head and turns to jog downstairs to prep everything. 

“Great,” she hears Cat mutter up to her roof. “She’s going to come back with two sandwiches, isn’t she. She’s so _nice_ ,” Cat groans, and Kara can’t help but laugh. 

She unpacks the bag of groceries Eliza said she could get for Cat and she’s glad, because the fridge is basically empty. She remembers what Cat said about her mother not answering when she called and she has to let go of the fridge door quickly before it dents under her hand. 

It’s short work to put together a little platter. Two sandwiches, to make Cat laugh, and some nice fruit. A few biscuits and a peach, because they’re sweet and she thinks Cat will like it. A cool bottle of water. She finds a fly protector in a drawer when she sweeps the kitchen with her eyes, not wanting to bang and rattle through every drawer and cupboard, and she hurries to carry it all up to Cat, who has made herself more comfortable on her bed. Kara notes with approval the pillow propped under Cat's ankle and nods.

She slides the tray onto the bedside table, glances down at it and raises her eyebrows at Cat, who smiles. 

“It’s great, thank you.”

She looks tired, and her face is a bit tight with pain. The _ice_ , Kara remembers, and she holds up one finger before darting out Cat’s bedroom door. There are no ice cubes, so she fills up a tray and, with a guilty look toward the front door where Eliza is waiting outside, she freezes a few trays with her breath and tips them into a small plastic bag, which she runs back up to Cat. 

That’s all she needs to do, and Cat looks like she just wants to rest, but Kara feels like something is _missing_. 

And okay, she knows what it is but it’s hard to just come out and do it. 

Cat starts to look at her oddly when Kara has been standing next to her for a full minute, maybe more. 

“I really don’t need anymore help,” she tells Kara. “I’m fine.”

Kara nods. That’s a dismissal, she knows it. Last chance. 

Be brave. 

“I will see you tomorrow, Cat?” 

She knows people find her voice strange—she knows she sounds too careful, that her voice doesn’t sound quite like everyone else. She knows her accent is strange, that the words never sound exactly as they should. But Cat, Cat feels like someone she can trust. Someone like Alex, who will be patient with her. Someone new and different entirely, who will find her strange, perhaps, but not think it a bad thing. 

Cat just stares at her for a long minute and, with a sinking heart, Kara is sure that she was wrong. 

She turns away. 

“You know my name,” Cat says. “I didn’t think you knew my name.”

Kara turns back. “You…” she hesitates, feeling a little nervous admitting it but Cat had so, “weren’t the only one to pay attention.” She hadn’t noticed Cat at lunch, she usually takes the time to listen to people’s conversations and try to understand them, but she had noticed her at other times. “I find you exceptional as well.”

Cat leans back against her pillows slowly, smile growing. “Well. Alright then,” she says softly. “I'll see you at school then, Danvers.”

“Until then, Cat,” she says back and she has to remind her feet to touch the floor as she makes her way out of Cat’s home. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, you have _got_  to calm down,” Alex tells her, mostly kind but a little bit sharp. “You’re buzzing, Kara.”

She is. She knows she is—she _can_  feel her hands shaking, thank you a lot—but she isn’t sure how to stop it from happening this time. Grounding herself is hard, harder today than most days. 

“Okay, okay,” Alex grumbles at a look from their mother, and she reaches out and takes both of Kara’s hands. She presses them flat together, like they’re praying together, and she moves them so they both sink down to the floor. “Close your eyes, Kara,” she says, voice so much more gentle now that she’s close and can _feel_  her buzzing, can see the way her eyes won’t settle. Her voice is firm but soft and it doesn’t stop and start. When she talks, she talks with purpose and it gives direction for Kara to follow. “We have school today and you’ve already taken three sick days this term. You don’t get many more before people start being suspicious, so if you can manage it, we’re going in today. Nod if you understand.”

Kara lets the words float around in her head for a moment, and then she nods. 

“Good. I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen today. This morning, you have English for your first class. You’re studying Hamlet. You finished your homework assignment this weekend, and it’s in your blue folder. When you get into class, Miss Henley is going to ask for it, so you’ll take it from your folder and put it in her hands. Nod if you understand.” It’s easier this time and there’s barely a pause before Kara is nodding. “Good, that’s really good. Can you tell me what your second class is?”

Kara licks her lips, opens her mouth but the buzzing isn’t just in her hands and her teeth are chattering and clicking too much for her to say anything. She bows her head low, drags her feet up to her chest. Her heels dig grooves into the floorboard and when she sees what she’s done, she flinches and curls around her knees, tries to bring her hands to her face. 

“Shh, shush, it’s alright Kara.” Alex is kneeling next to her now and this is familiar too, the hesitation. But then her sister is hugging her and she’s pulling her jacket over both their heads and it’s a little darker. Easier to manage. She can still hear everything, the jacket does very little to dampen that, but it’s something and Kara lowers her head to her knees and does her best to loosen her shoulders. And maybe even to control the buzzing, if she can. “It’s alright, just listen to me. You can block out all those other sounds, I know you can. We’re going to go to school today. Mom will drop us off. What’s your first class?” She waits for a moment, then says a little more quietly, “What’s your first class, Kara?”

“E-English.”

“Good. And what’s your second?”

She knows this, and she fights through the billion layers of distraction and sounds to get to the answer. Ten streets away, Mr. Nguyen slams his car door and Kara jumps. “History!” she spits out. “American History.”

“And what’s going on there?”

“Lessons?” she tells Alex, hesitant. 

“What are you learning right now,” Alex says, and Kara recognises it as a clarification. 

“I’m, we are—I don’t know.” Alex’s arms tighten around her, and one hand smooths down her back, and Kara nods. “It’s a—he’s—it’s a new section. Partners.”

“What about partners?”

“Getting one. Project. End of term.”

“Good, Kara, that’s really good.” Alex continues to stroke up and down her back, in firm, continuous lines, and Kara lets out a shaky breath and focuses on that. Just that. 

It takes some time, but Alex runs her through the rest of her day and eventually, Kara stops shaking and she’s left numb and weak but that’s better than being afraid that she’s out of control. That she’ll _hurt_  someone. 

“You don’t have to go,” Alex says to her, so gently, and Kara bites back tears. It’s taken them a long time to get to this point—where Alex talks to her and treats her like a real sister, where she’ll help instead of staring down at her like she hopes this time Kara doesn’t uncurl—and she’s not going to ruin that by crying. She knows it’s not right. Alex cries, but only in their room when she’s alone or at the very least when she thinks Kara is asleep and with her covers pulled over her head. And at night. Eliza does the same. So Kara knows that it’s not right for her to do it here and now and she swallows hard, three times, until the backs of her eyes and throat don’t burn so much. “Kara? Did you hear me?”

“Yes. I know.”

“Well,” Alex says, and Kara hears her smile. “Let’s go then. You’ll only be a few minutes late for first period.”

* * *

She’s thirteen minutes late, actually, and when she hands in her assignment, she gets handed a detention slip in return. 

“I don’t suffer tardiness, Miss Danvers,” Miss Henley tells her, and Kara cocks her head to the side, turns that statement over in her head, and nods once to her teacher. She takes her customary seat, pulls out her notebook and a pen, and takes very careful notes throughout the entire class. 

“Kara,” Miss Henley calls to her when the bell rings. Kara stops in front of her desk, holds her notebook in front of her stomach and tries not to tremble. Alex hadn’t covered this in their schedule—she’s supposed to go straight to her next class, Alex hadn’t said _anything_  about Miss Henley wanting to talk to her. “Kara, can you tell me why you were late to my class this morning?”

Miss Henley isn’t a cruel woman. Kara would even hazard people would call her warm. She’s not particularly tall or slim and Kara has noticed that the students don’t pay a lot of attention to her. Her voice is mostly quiet and careful, and she tells jokes that make the class laugh if they’re listening. Kara doesn’t usually get the jokes, but she smiles at them anyway. She’s not a cruel woman, but she walks around her desk and sits on the edge of it and holds Kara’s gaze with her own, and she repeats herself. 

“Kara, tell me why you were late to my class this morning.”

It’s been seven weeks and three days since she’s spoken out loud at school, almost the entire school term. 

“If you tell me why, you don’t have to go to detention,” she offers, and Kara’s hands stop trembling. Her spine straightens, and she meets Miss Henley’s gaze straight on. There’s the slightest widening of her eyes in return, and then some strange look. Like anticipation, like glee, but the faintest trace of it, and Kara knows she’s doing the right thing when she turns her back on her teacher and walks away. 

* * *

When her third morning class is over, Kara runs from the classroom. Almost suspiciously fast. 

She crosses over to the seniors lockers area and loiters, impatient, at Alex’s locker. 

“Hey,” her sister calls out, and then Alex’s arms are around her. “You’re shaking again,” Alex says very quietly. “You want me to call mom? Jesus, Kara, you should have texted me.”

Kara shakes her head very quickly and steps out of her arms, glancing around. Most of the other students are Alex’s friends, and they just nod to her. One even smiles, but Kara doesn’t notice. She’s searching for anyone who wants to make fun of them and, when she doesn’t find anyone, she relaxes just a fraction. 

She knows her high school life isn’t going to be great, but that doesn’t mean she wants to ruin this part of Alex’s life too.

She's done enough of that already.  

“Kara? What’s wrong?” Alex frowns when she’s presented with the detention slip and she sighs. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t say this would happen. Miss Henley doesn’t ever give detentions.” Kara points to it and Alex leans against her locker door and grins. “Yeah _obviously_ , Kara, this is an exception.”

Kara sighs, hangs her head. She points to her chest. 

“Meaning what?” Alex asks her, a sharp edge slipping into her tone. “Are you okay?”

Kara nods. Alex doesn’t seem convinced. 

“What did she say to you?”

There are too many people around for Kara to say it out loud, but Alex is already ripping a page from her book and a pen from her pocket. 

_Tell_ _me why you were late to my class this morning. If you tell me why, you don’t have to go to detention._

Alex purses her lips and reads the note. Twice. She folds it up neatly and slips it into the pocket of her jeans. “What did you do?”

Kara flushes spottily. She feels uneven and chilly from nerves and she knows her blush is going to be spotty and ugly, can feel it around her neck and her chest. _W_ _alked away_ , she mouths, and Alex stares at her for a moment before she throws her head back and  _laughs_. 

“Good. I hate that they try and make you speak when you don’t want to, it’s such an asshole move. What a nasty bitch,” Alex says with relish, and she winks when Kara crinkles her nose. “Sorry. But seriously, all the teachers are assholes and you don’t have to tell them shit. Got it?” Kara nods slowly. “Good.” Alex slings an arm around her shoulders and tugs her forward. Kara tenses and Alex hesitates a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s cool, Kara. You’re my sister.”

“They’ll be mean to you,” she says, very quietly, and relaxes when her sister pulls one of Kara’s hands up and wraps it around her waist. “I don’t—”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Kara. It’s cool. And they won’t be mean to me. They wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Soap.”

“Eliza isn’t here. And _you_  aren’t gonna tell her,” Alex grumbles. Kara nods into her shoulder. “That’s not a rule,” Alex says quietly. “You know that, right?” Kara nods again. It's not a rule, not like 1. Don't tell people you're not from earth, or 2. Don't run with scissors in the house or 3. Don't talk about Jeremiah, are rules.

The third one she learned on her own. No one had to tell her that one.

But this? This is a different kind of rule, a deductive one, not instructive. All the television she’s binged and all the books she’s read have told her there’s an underlying command for siblings. Some rivalries, some very close friendships, but throughout the vast majority there is a deep connection that means they take care of one another. It’s the same on Krypton, of course, with the blood bonds between them and all that they mean. But this is Alex, a girl she’s forced her way into her life, and a human. And Kara feels it, the connection, and she thinks Alex might too. Sometimes. 

“Lunch is nearly over,” Alex says into her hair. She rubs her back, pulls away a little to look down at her. “You alright to go back to class? I can get myself in trouble if you want, join you for detention?” She’s already laughing before Kara can finish shaking her head, very sternly, and she pats Kara’s shoulder, turns her around and nudges her in the direction of her next class. “Go on then. See you later.”

She doesn’t tell Alex that in history, no one wanted to partner up with her. Or that in maths, her teacher called on her four times and was only barely, _barely_  satisfied with the fact that she shoved out of her seat and wrote the answer on the board. These are things she can deal with on her own.

* * *

“Hey Danvers! Danvers, wait up,” Kara hears from just behind her. She keeps walking, because she has Spanish class to get to and Alex hadn’t said anything about her stopping to make small talk with bullies. Even if he’s making an effort to sound… nice? “I’m _talking_  to you, Danvers. Hold up a second, won’t you please?”

She wishes she could just run. _P_ _roperly_  run. Because if she did, then the long-legged boys in Johnny’s little group wouldn’t be able to easily step ahead of her and block her path. 

Kara ducks her head and curls her hands around the straps of her backpack. She turns, slowly, to face Johnny.

“It’s not very polite to ignore people, Danvers. Did you know that? We just wanna _talk_ , Jesus.”

Kara shifts her weight from one foot to the other and, for a brief moment, lets herself think about jumping right over him. Maybe even stepping on his head and using that as a stepping stone. Then to the roof. And then, wherever she wants. 

“Are you _listening_ , Danvers?” It’s Johnny’s best friend who’s talking now and he’s got a voice that always shakes Kara. It’s loud, too loud to ever ignore, and she _hates_  it. “Jesus, I knew you couldn’t talk but I thought you could at least hear, you little freak.”

She knows what that means. It’s not the worst she’s heard, but it’s still not very nice. She wonders if it doesn’t hurt all that much because she’s immune, or whether the words just don’t have the same kind of weight as a Kryptonian insult might. 

But if they don’t mean a lot to her, she knows they do mean a lot to people like Johnny. And she’s having a really bad day so Kara lifts her head and narrows her eyes at him and considers her arsenal of really terribly rotten words that Alex has taught her. 

“Hey, that’s enough Bryan. Listen, Kara, we just want to talk,” he says, and he steps in closer to her. When Kara frowns and steps back, rough hands shove her forward, towards him, and he leans down over her. Kara flinches—doesn’t _mean_  to, but people don’t really come all that close to her, and she doesn’t _like_  feeling small. He _smiles._ “You know, we got off on the wrong foot. And I regret that.”

Kara glances down at her watch. She only has a minute before the warning bell is going to go off. 

“No, I really do. Honest.” She’s never heard anything less honest. He makes her skin crawl and she feels like she’s been dunked into an oil slick—his voice is silky and slippery and she feels it by association. Feels _bad_. “So look, I want to do something for you. I want to give you some advice. Just listen,” he says softly, and Kara turns away from him, only to have his hand gently take hers. “I know you think Cat Grant is your friend, and that’s fine. She’s clever and cool and really pretty. But I just thought you should know,” he hesitates. “She’s not what she seems.”

_She's_   _more_ , Kara knows, but that’s not where he’s going with this. She knows that too. 

“She left her last school because of some trouble. No one wanted her around.” She hates that he sounds honest. “She ran this, this school newspaper thing and she _had_  friends but then,” he sighs. “She published all their dark little secrets and she didn’t have any friends left. And if you think that’s cruel,” he tells her, hand tightening on her wrist, “Can you imagine? Letting someone get close to you because you think she’s your friend, and then she tells everyone?” Johnny crouches down a little and lifts a hand, tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “That’s what she’s after. Your little secret.”

His hand rests on her shoulder for a minute. Then he squeezes it and pats once before he stands upright. “Just thought you should know, Danvers.”

And then he’s gone, and the warning bell is ringing, and Kara puts the whole interaction out of her head because Alex hadn’t warned her about that at _all_  and she has class. Two more classes, and then detention, and then she can go home. 

And maybe tomorrow will go to plan. 

* * *

“ _D_ _etention_ , Kara? I know I suggested you act more like a human teenager but that’s not really what I meant,” Eliza laughs while she’s making them dinner. Kara looks up from her homework, and over to Alex. They’re sitting at the kitchen island to keep their mother company and Alex flicks a pencil at her and nods to Eliza, who turns to watch them. “What happened?” she asks her youngest. “Back talk your teacher?” 

Kara frowns, shakes her head. She doesn’t talk at school. Eliza knows that. 

“You know you’ll have to talk to them eventually, dear, a lot of your grades will include oral examinations.”

“Teeth?”

“Spoken word.”

“Oh.” Kara fixes her eyes on her book again and nods. “Yes, Eliza.”

“It really is very important. I know you’re nervous, a lot of kids your age are. Maybe if you joined the debate team—”

“Mom!” Alex bites out. She glares over at her mom and shifts to the chair next to Kara. “Leave her alone.”

“I’m not being mean, Alex, I’m just saying that it’s important.”

“She knows. Leave her alone.”

Eliza stares at the two of them more a moment longer before she turns back to the stove. “You’re right, you’re right. When you’re ready, sweetie,” she says to Kara, who gives her a small smile. It grows a little more genuine when she feels a clumsy hand fumble to find herself under the table and Alex gives her a squeeze. 

“Can you help me?” she asks her sister quietly, and she points down to her chemistry book.

“Course I can. Let’s have a look.”

They disappear upstairs after dinner, again, and Kara hesitates on every step and tugs gently at Alex’s sleeve. 

“Should we help—”

“ _M_ _om_ ,” Alex yells. “Do you want help with the dishes?”

Kara clamps her hands over her ears and scowls at Alex, who grins. 

“No, thank you. Go ahead and pretend to do your homework, sweetie. Bed by _eleven_.”

Alex nods, rolls her eyes to Kara, and yanks her up the stairs again. “Don’t listen to her, you do this shit in your own time. Okay?” She lets go of Kara to throw herself onto her own bed, bounces a little. She yanks her pillow under her chest, rests her chin on it and stares over at Kara, who settles herself a little more gently on her bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She grins when Kara crinkles her nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of a swear. But not a bad one, not really.”

“Oh, okay.” She pulls out her notebook and jots down a few words. 

“Do you have, like, a grading system of swears?” She laughs when Kara shrugs. “Can I see?”

“You taught me most of them.”

“But not all. What have you heard when I’m not around?” She takes the book Kara offers, and nods when Kara tells her that they’re on the page the book is open to, and the next two. And her nod tells Kara that she understands, and she won’t look any further than she’s been given permission to look. “I  _know_  I didn’t say this one.” She jabs her finger at the word and Kara flushes just looking at it. 

“Max.”

“God, he’s such an ass. Don’t ever use that, it’s really bad.” Kara nods and Alex makes the appropriate symbol next to it. “So, are you going to tell me?”

Kara sighs and lays comfortably on her bed, on her back. She takes off her glasses and slowly opens her eyes, lets her sight take her far beyond the ceiling of her bedroom. 

“Johnny,” she says, and Alex slams the book closed. When Kara flinches, Alex apologises. 

“What did he say?”

Kara shrugs one shoulder. She scratches at her temple, where she can feel phantom fingers brush over her skin again. “What do you think of Cat?”

“Not a lot. Haven’t really spoken to her.”

Kara nods. She suspected as much. It wasn’t that helpful, not to have another opinion. All she had to weigh her own opinion against was Johnny’s—but, he was awful, and a liar, and a bully, and she _likes_  Cat. She thinks. Or, she feels important in some way. And dangerous too, because her eyes are quick and sharp and she asks a lot of questions. And Kara isn’t sure she fully likes the way Cat stares at her, because it makes her skin feel hot and she finds it hard to look away, and when Cat asks her many questions, Kara wants to answer them. 

“Kara?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t listen to whatever Johnny said. He’s a sad sasquatch of a boy and you,” Alex’s voice goes hushed and a bit crooked, like she’s sad _and_  happy about what she’s saying, and Kara turns onto her side to see her sister’s face. “You can touch the stars,” she whispers, with wide honest eyes that make Kara ache because there’s something in them that isn’t happy, not at all. “You’re so far above any of those people who want to hurt you. You got that?” Kara nods, and Alex gives her a proud smile. “Good.”

Kara turns back to stare up through the ceiling again. She watches them as Alex clicks on her lamp and scrawls a few short answers to as many questions as she can be bothered to, and when she's done she sucks in a breath, tells herself to be brave, and says, “Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you—you are my sister. If I,” she’s never been good at adjusting quotes, never wholly sure she’s translating the context right, but this one will do, she thinks. “If I can touch the stars, it is because I stand on the shoulders of, of,”

“Giants.”

“Yes but, metaphorically they’re your shoulders,” she tells her sister, and smiles when Alex laughs. 

It’s not true, exactly. She can _fly_. She knows that’s what Alex means. But she doesn’t think that Alex can see what she sees either—not with her x-ray vision, obviously, but also Alex can’t see the strength she has in her own shoulders, the tenderness, the care in her hands, the incredible brain she has. She can’t see the humour, can’t see the way a sly joke, a teasing nudge lifts Kara’s spirits. Can’t see that without her, without  _Alex,_  Kara would be grievously _lost_. 

“I got it.” She nods, and when she looks over at Kara, she can _only_  see warmth in those eyes. “Thanks.”

* * *

_hello cat—hello. there is something that i would like to talk to you about.—hi cat—hello. can we talk about something?_  

Kara scowls down at her paper and fights the urge to groan. Planning a conversation is nerve-wracking. Far more so than she had expected. 

It gets about a hundred times worse when a hand plucks the sheet out from in front of her and she’s met with a thrilled—and very unpleasant—grin when she looks up. 

“Looks like someone wants to _say_  something,” Bryan laughs. “Hey! Hey Cat!” Kara closes her eyes very slowly and wishes one of her powers was the ability to sink into the earth. “Kara wants to _talk_  to you.”

“I didn’t know she could talk,” Kara hears from all the way across the courtyard, from someone she’s never met before, and her face bursts into colour. She holds her hand out for Bryan to return the sheet, and he steps back. 

“I’m just trying to help, Danvers. Looks like you were having trouble. Here, you want me to read it out for you?” He clears his throat. “Hello Cat,” he says, in a grotesque impression of a voice. “That’s what you sound like, right? That’s why you don’t talk?”

Kara whips her hand back and stands. She hides her shaking hands in her pockets and walks quickly away. So quickly, that she misses a blonde girl rage her way over to Bryan, rip the page from his hands, and race to catch up with her. 

“Kara! Kara, _wait_.” 

At cat’s voice, she chokes back a sob and, though she knows it’s a bad idea, when she rounds the corner she sprints away faster than anyone could possibly see, and hides herself in a bathroom stall. 

She tucks her feet up underneath her and hangs her head, drops it into her hands. 

Dumb dumb _dumb_. _D_ _umb_. 

The bathroom door opens. 

Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb she shouldn’t have written anything she shouldn’t have let her guard down she shouldn’t have stayed in the courtyard she should’ve gone to her tree she shouldn’t have _stayed_  Rao she’s making _mistakes_

“You’re a fast runner, Danvers,” Cat says, and Kara lowers her glasses and sees her there, leaning against the wall. She’s silent for a long time and Kara waits. She doesn’t know a lot about Cat, not really, but she’s pretty sure she’s only quiet when she’s plotting what to say next. “I'm free after school today. You want to come to mine?”

Kara chews on the inside of her cheek. 

“Knock once for yes and twice for no,” Cat suggests, with a little lilt to her voice that Kara thinks is happy. Amused, maybe. 

She knocks twice. 

“Okay. How about tomorrow?” Cat waits a little longer and then she laughs. “I warned you that I’m persistent, remember? Always on the hunt for stories.” She _had_  told her that. At the time, it hadn’t seemed all that scary. A reason to be careful, obviously, but not scary. Because Cat never seemed like the kind of person to _tell_  secrets. Just voracious. Kara read once, about people with unusual tastes. For hair, for paper, and once a man who ate an entire airplane. She imagines Cat's writing bold and inky and red lips closing around them and swallowing them whole. “Come on, Kara,” she murmurs. “Meet me tomorrow. I won’t take no for an answer. Come on.”

Kara is still considering it when she taps—just once—on the wall. 

**Author's Note:**

> unicyclehippo on tumblr as well, come along & say hi if you want


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